


Still

by sayasamax3



Category: Ookiku Furikabutte | Big Windup!
Genre: Drabble, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-11
Updated: 2015-01-11
Packaged: 2018-03-07 02:39:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3158084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sayasamax3/pseuds/sayasamax3
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's too hot for apologies.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Still

Ichihara would like to know what he did to deserve this. 

It’s  _hot_ , the summer air lying heavy and still over him like a woolen blanket and about as suffocating, too.  Laying out on the porch as he is, he had, until a few minutes ago, a perfect view of Daichi practicing his swing in his backyard; Ichihara had turned away, looking just made the heat seem thicker.

But now it’s even worse, because Daichi is sitting next to him and heat rolls off of him in _waves_ , so strong that Ichihara’s surprised the pint of ice cream Daichi’s holding hasn’t melted yet.

“Say ‘Ah’ Icchan!” The spoon Daichi holds out, overloaded with ice cream, seems almost menacing in how it hovers just a little over his face, and though it pains him to move in this god-awful heat, Ichihara rolls away from the offering before it can drop onto him; not even a second after he does, the spoon tips just enough to let a fat chunk of ice cream fall onto the porch.

“Oh no I’ve made a mess!” Daichi exclaims, flailing and predictably sending more ice cream flying from the spoon.  “I’m sorry I’ll—“

But Ichihara can’t bear it, seeing Daichi move so much is enough to give him heat stroke.  Desperately gathering what energy he has, Ichihara sits up, leans in Daichi’s direction and manages, through some miracle, to catch the spoon (now empty but still pleasantly chilled) in his mouth.   

Blessedly, Daichi stops moving immediately. 

“I want more,” Ichihara says, looking up at Daichi with expectant eyes.  “Can I have some?”

Daichi’s face floods with pink, and huh, maybe the heat’s getting to him after all.  But he says nothing as he holds a fresh spoonful of ice cream up to Ichihara’s mouth, and Ichihara accepts it with good grace. 

Really, Ichihara thinks as the coolness moves through him (along with a thrum of excitement—how odd), that is a movement he can get behind. 


End file.
